Get Help Lana
by Red Witch
Summary: Lana goes to group therapy.


**The disclaimer telling all of you that I don't own any Archer characters has gone to a therapy session somewhere. Just some madness from my tiny little mind.**

 **Get Help Lana**

"Good evening everyone," A man with black hair wearing a brown cardigan, white shirt and jeans with loafers spoke to a group of people in the circle. "I'm Doctor Wells. This is the Loved Ones in Comas Support Group. I see some new faces as well as old."

A man who had a strong resemblance to Zach Galifianakis raised his hand. "Bob I've told you…" Dr. Wells sighed. "Questions and answers will be at the **end** of the session. Although I have no idea what questions you could possibly have **this time."**

"It's not a question," Bob said. "I have some news. The good news my twin brother is finally out of the coma."

"Well that's great Bob," A woman with red hair said.

"Not that great Edith," Bob sighed. "He died this morning. So technically he is out of the coma…"

"Oh, I'm so sorry Bob," Dr. Wells said.

"I'm not," Bob said. "My brother was a jerk. But Mom liked him for some dumb reason."

"So, this is your last meeting?" Edith asked.

"No," Bob said. "Because when my mother was getting a hysterical about my brother dying she slipped and hit her head and now **she's** in a coma. I tell you it's one thing after another at my house. Which is one reason why I'm here. To get away from my house. Which is admittedly quieter now that my mom is in a coma but still…"

"Still I'm very sorry Bob," Dr. Wells said.

"The funeral is this weekend," Bob said. "You're all invited. It's at the Wistful Acres Cemetery. It is however BYOB so…"

"So, can I ask a question now?" Edith spoke up. "My husband has been in a coma for over a year. Does this count as a separation? Can I start dating again or what?"

"I'd like to know the answer to **that question** ," Lana spoke up.

"He was cheating on me when he fell into the coma," Edith spoke up. "I mean fair is fair…"

"That's what happened to me!" Lana said.

"Okay let's talk to our new person in the group," Dr. Wells spoke up. "Would you like to introduce yourself and tell us your story?"

"Hello," Lana said nervously. "I'm Lana. My boyfriend Archer is in a coma. Although I'm not sure if he **is** my boyfriend or not. I think we're still technically on break but I'm not sure…"

"Boy have I been there sister," Edith remarked.

"We met at this…" Lana paused. "Paper office. Run by his mother."

"Let me guess," Edith spoke up. "Mama's boy and runs around with anything in a skirt?"

"Preferably out of one," Lana remarked.

"Definitely been **there,** " Edith nodded. "And I'm guessing the mother's a cold entitled bitch am I right?"

"Edith…" Dr. Wells said.

"No, she's spot on. I tell you one thing," Lana sighed. "If a person points a gun at you one minute then offers you a job the next, don't take the job offer!"

"Say what?" Dr. Wells blinked.

"Especially if she gives preferential treatment to her self-absorbed…" Lana went on. "Arrogant asshole of a son who would beat Narcissus in The Most In Love With Himself contest and tends to shoot up the office on one of his drunken binges. But then again almost everyone shot Brett at one point or another so…"

"Hang on," Dr. Wells interrupted her. "People carried **guns** at this paper office?"

Lana paused. "We had a very aggressive sales department."

Lana went on. "Anyway, I never wanted to go out with him in the first place. But as time went on he and I started to click and we worked really well together and let's face it, Archer is damn good looking. So, we got together. Unfortunately, Archer also got together with half the office. The **female half!"**

A few minutes later…

"And there they were right on the copy machine," Lana fumed. "Completely naked and covered with only whipped cream!"

A few more minutes later…

"And of course, he had to bang Cheryl the world's worst secretary," Lana grumbled. "As well as our head of human resources, Pam. But to be fair I slept with her too and she's not half bad…"

A few more minutes later…

"You know Archer once hit on my mother?" Lana went on. "He thought my parents wanted a three way with him. Although to be fair they were all naked in a hot tub at the same time."

A few more minutes later…

"So I shot him in the foot a couple of times?" Lana said. "It was completely justified!"

And a few more minutes later…

"I should have set him on fire instead of his clothes," Lana grumbled.

Still a few more minutes later…

"And then Archer planned to run off with Katya but she ended up banging Barry and running off and became the head of the KG…" Lana caught herself. "P. A Russian Paper company."

"KG **P**?" Bob asked.

"P. For Paper," Lana said. "The other two words are in Russian. I think it's someone's name. Anyway…"

A few minutes more later…

"And of course, Archer doesn't listen to me," Lana went on. "He'd rather dick around and laugh while we're in the middle of a firefight with the North Koreans in a hotel!"

"The _**North Koreans**_?" Dr. Wells asked.

"North Korean paper company," Lana said quickly. "I told you, we had a very aggressive sales team."

"A little too aggressive," Bob groaned.

And even a few more minutes later…

"I know stealing Archer's sperm wasn't the most ethical thing in the world," Lana went on. "But other than actually having sex with him what choice did I have?"

"I have no answer for that," Dr. Wells blinked.

"And hindsight yes," Lana went on. "Forming a cocaine cartel was an extremely bad idea! But I was pregnant and so desperate for money. We were all desperate for money. Too bad we were lousy at sales."

"Which is why the **paper office** closed?" Dr. Wells blinked.

"Yeah it turned out the office wasn't sanctioned and technically treason!" Lana groaned.

"Treason?" Bob shouted. "To run a **paper office**?"

Lana paused. "An unauthorized paper office."

"An **unauthorized paper office?"** Bob asked.

"Yes," Lana said. "It wasn't sanctioned by the…Department of Paper and Recycling."

"A paper office has to be sanctioned by a **government agency?"** Dr. Wells blinked.

"Well this one should have been," Lana sighed. "Long story short…"

"Too late," Edith groaned.

"The next thing I know I'm giving birth in the San Marcos airport during an airstrike," Lana went on. "Because we lost the country in a government takedown after my ex-boyfriend carried out a coup against the dictator three weeks ago…"

"This story is better than my soap operas," One woman said to another.

A few more minutes later…

" **Six weeks!"** Lana was going on. "Six weeks he's running around Thailand getting plastered and nailing lady boy hookers! And apparently some kind of small deer…"

Several more minutes later…

"Long story short," Lana was still going on. "Our office closed and we got blacklisted. So, we decided to move to LA and open a detective agency."

"You got blacklisted from _selling paper_?" Dr. Wells was confused.

"You still think she was **selling paper**?" Edith asked.

"Lana can we just fast forward to the coma part of the story?" Dr. Wells groaned.

"Okay fine," Lana sighed. "Things were fine until Archer got starstruck by this has been older woman and he kept obsessing over him. I had it so I thought I'd teach him a lesson by going on break…"

"How exactly would going on break teach **him** a lesson?" Bob asked. "Wouldn't he take that as an invitation to run off with this other woman?"

"Shut up Bob!" Lana glared.

"Bob's right," Edith said. "You did **not** think that through."

"I wanted to show Mr. Sterling Mallory Archer that his dick wasn't a gift to women!" Lana snapped. "I had options too!"

"Hang on again," Dr. Wells interrupted. "Sterling… _ **Mallory**_ …Archer?"

"His mother named him," Lana explained. "And her name is Mallory. And she's just as big a narcissist as Archer is so…"

"Hang on," Edith spoke up. "You call your boyfriend by **his last name?"**

"Yes," Lana blinked.

"You don't think there's anything odd about **that?** " Edith asked.

"Odd about what?" Lana blinked.

"Never mind. Continue," Edith sighed.

"Anyway," Lana sighed. "The next thing I know not even a few days pass before I catch him balls deep in that old whore…"

"What a shock," Edith rolled her eyes.

"You really should **not** have suggested a break," Bob agreed.

"The next thing I know I'm being framed for murder because that old bitch killed her husband and Archer's just going along for laughs," Lana grumbled. "He thought it was funny to let me get arrested for murder!"

"Doesn't seem like a very good boyfriend," A man in the back said.

"I know! Right?" Lana said. "Then I find out he got shot by that same old bitch when he tried to clear my name, which he never would have had to do if he wasn't dicking around in the first place! And he got into a coma when he was shot instead of his cyborg clone! Seriously? Who lets himself get shot instead of the cyborg?"

"Cyborg?" Dr. Wells did a double take.

"Technically more of an android thing," Lana admitted. "A robot double Krieger made."

"You had somebody in your paper office that made **robots?** " Dr. Wells shouted.

"You **still** think she worked at **a paper office?"** Edith shouted.

"I don't think she did," Bob blinked.

A woman called out. "You're really off the ball today Doc."

"Just out of curiosity, Lana…" Dr. Wells said cautiously. "How did you hear about our therapy session?"

"Oh, my friend Pam told me about this," Lana said. "She said she and Cheryl went to one of your group sessions and she said it really made her feel better."

"Pam?" Dr. Wells gulped. "As in Pam Poovey?"

"And Cheryl Tunt?" Bob was stunned.

"Yes. You remember them?" Lana asked.

"Oh yeah," Bob winced.

"We remember **them,** " Dr. Wells groaned.

FLASHBACK!

"Jesus is this a coma support group or an AA meeting?" Pam burped as she drank some malt liquor. "What do you mean you don't have any booze?"

"Lame!" Cheryl rolled her eyes. "Anybody got any glue?"

"Uh I have some scotch tape in the…" Dr. Wells pointed to a desk.

"You can't get high on scotch tape!" Cheryl told him. "Duh!"

"Why are you people here again?" Dr. Wells asked.

"Because we saw this ad on one of those bulletin boards put up in the supermarket about coma patients support group," Pam told him. "And after explaining to this ding dong ditz that the support group wasn't for patients **in comas** …"

"That's a really misleading ad by the way," Cheryl spoke up.

"We decided to check it out," Pam said. "Because our buddy is in a coma. And to be honest. I think it's affecting my drinking." She finished her malt liquor and burped.

"This whole coma plotline is sooooo boring!" Cheryl went on. "I don't get enough screen time."

"Some might say you've been getting **a lot** of screen time," Pam looked at her. "More than Lana actually."

"You say it like it's a bad thing," Cheryl blinked.

"What?" Dr. Wells asked.

"She thinks she's in a TV show," Pam waved. "It's best to humor her."

"How many coma dreams is he going **to have**?" Cheryl shouted. "Unless…This reality is **a coma dream too**? And all our adventures and thoughts and experiences are the product of Archer's mind!"

"I'm pretty sure this isn't a dream," Edith said. "If it was you wouldn't be here. And I'd be dating George Clooney."

"That means we were **never real** from the beginning!" Cheryl gasped. "Am I real? Or just a figment of someone else's imagination fleshed out?"

"That would explain your country music phase," Pam thought aloud.

"And why so many people are turning into cyborgs," Cheryl added.

"Turning into **what now**?" Dr. Wells blinked.

"Oh my god what if this was nothing but a coma dream the **whole time?"** Cheryl gasped. "The spy agency…the detective agency! Everything! Just a coma dream? AAHHHH!"

"You're off your meds again aren't you Cheryl?" Pam sighed.

"Possibly," Cheryl shrugged.

"Here you go," Pam took out a bag of Groovy Bears.

"Ooh! Gimme!" Cheryl took some and munched on them.

"Gummy bears?" Bob asked. "That doesn't sound like medicine."

"It is if they're laced with enough LSD to satisfy Timothy Leary," Pam explained.

"You can't just take LSD drugs!" Dr. Wells shouted.

"Why not?" Pam asked. "Mad because it cuts into your prescription kickbacks?"

"Oh, I feel so much better now," Cheryl said.

"Yeah I mean," Pam said. "No offense but I don't think this group is for us. You guys are a bunch of downers."

"God, I hope we don't sound like **you people** ," Cheryl snorted. _"Wahh! My husband is in a coma! Wahhh! My child is in a coma! Wahhh! My twin brother is in a coma and I wish he'd die already!"_

Cheryl looked at Bob. "Actually, your complaint is pretty reasonable. It sucks when they milk it."

"That's all I'm saying," Bob shrugged.

"I know we're all sad and stuff that our friend is in a coma," Pam added. "But boy are you people obsessed over it! We've been here for half an hour and it's all you people are talking about!"

"Yeah you'd feel a lot better if you guys loosened up and partied," Pam said. "I mean there's nothing you can do about the situation. So why not make the most of it?"

"You're supposed to make us feel better," Cheryl said. "So, do it already!"

"I could do **him** ," Pam pointed to the group. "Or her."

"These people are grieving for their loved ones!" Dr. Wells said. "Who are in a coma!"

"I wouldn't say grieving **exactly,"** Edith remarked. "More like annoyed."

"Husband cheat on you?" Pam asked.

"Oh yeah," Edith nodded. "Which reminds me. I was going to ask you Doc about dating etiquette…What's the correct length of time your husband has to be in a coma before you can bone someone?"

"We'll talk about that another time, Edith," Dr. Wells groaned.

"Ugh let's go Pam," Cheryl waved. "Most of these people are such downers! We should tell Lana about this place. She'd fit right in!"

FLASHFORWARD!

"Oh my God," Dr. Wells blinked. "You're **that** Lana!"

"I apologize," Lana said. "Those two can be rather inappropriate."

"Yeah like someone who **hogs the floor** all night," Edith said sarcastically. "And seriously, I'm still waiting for the answer to my dating question!"

"Not now, Edith," Dr. Wells groaned. "This place is about working through your feelings and grief."

"Which I just did. Huh," Lana paused. "I feel better. I think this group therapy has actually helped me."

"It **has**?" Dr. Wells blinked.

"Not that I really **needed** therapy," Lana said. "I think I just needed to vent a little. No offense but I'm not sure group therapy is for me."

"Lana…" Dr. Wells paused. "You are absolutely **right.** "

"I **am**?" Lana blinked.

"I say this as a trained psychologist," Dr. Wells carefully weighed his words. "But you don't really need **this group**. I think you might need more… **advanced** personalized therapy should you choose to continue."

"Yeah you're on a way **different** level than we are," Bob groaned. Edith elbowed him in the side. "OW!"

"You know maybe I only needed this one session to get some things off my chest?" Lana thought aloud.

"A **lot** of people think that," Dr. Wells said diplomatically. "You're…fine. Just fine."

"I do feel fine," Lana said. "Well this has been a productive session."

"Very productive," Dr. Wells said. "If you want Lana I can give you the name of a more…qualified specialist."

"No need," Lana got up. "I'm good. Thanks for helping me Doctor."

"Anytime," Dr. Wells said with a straight face as Lana left.

Dr. Wells waited a minute and looked at the group. "You get I only said that just to get her out of here, right?"

"We figured out her code pretty quickly," Edith said. "I'm pretty sure everyone here figured out yours. Not that we're against it…"

"It was for the best," Another man said.

"For all our sakes," One woman said. "Think I just figured out why this Archer guy is staying in his coma."

"That's pretty obvious," Edith nodded.

"Oh good…" Dr. Wells sighed.

"Doc I'd like to propose a new rule to the group," Bob spoke up. "No more outsiders! They're all **nut jobs**!"

"And this from the guy who thinks aliens experimented on him," Edith pointed to Bob.

"Not with probes or anything like that," Bob snapped. "It was more like a survey. By the way they find that stereotype highly offensive."

"I should have listened to my father and become a dentist," Dr. Wells groaned.


End file.
